The League of Extraordinary Pirates
by GreenLantern500
Summary: Jack Sparrow, James Hook, John Silver and others. To be written in installments. Don't kill me, Alan Moore.Chapter Two is up.
1. Default Chapter

A/N: I'm rather obsessed with the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (both the comic and the movie), and naturally I read through the appendices at the backs of the comics, which often tell of earlier or future incarnations of the League. One of these was a League of Extraordinary Pirates. I decided to write my own incarnation of them, so, with the help of my little brother, I thought of some members (plucked from movies, books, and history) and I was set. I'm sorry if anyone is offended by the term I have the utmost respect for the Muslim culture, and I only inserted the term to create a historical feel. Oh, and if you're looking for some doe-eyed Bloom-y goodness, I'm sorry ; Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann won't be making an appearance. Hope you enjoy it!  
For the first time in his life, a thought entered Jack Sparrow's head: There are too many pirates. Indeed, many would feel the same way, confronted with the scene before the pirate: No less than four other buccaneers were seated at the dusty table in front of him. On the far right was a man with flowing dark hair and his hat pulled low over his eyes. Next to him was a stubbly man with a black tricorner hat not unlike Jack's own sitting on his head. There was a parrot perched on his left shoulder. Jack didn't normally hold with pets, but he owed quite a lot to a certain parrot, so he didn't mind the species as a whole. The man leaned on a crutch; Jack looked below the table discreetly and noticed that this was because his leg was severed at the knee. Next to the stubbly man sat a man who was strangely dressed, for the Caribbean. He was wearing a long turquoise cloak over a vest that looked to be of some kind of Eastern silk. Upon his head was a turban (also turquoise) that made Jack think he was one of the Mahometan corsairs he had read about. The man's features, however, were definitely Anglo-Saxon. There was a curved scimitar at his side. Next to the corsair sat a man who was dressed so finely that Jack disliked him immediately. He was wearing a red coat with gold fringe, white lace at his throat, and a broad-brimmed scarlet hat bedecked with white feathers. Jack made a mental note to steal the hat for a friend; he then remembered the person he had in mind was now his mortal enemy, and dead to boot. The man looked up; Jack was strongly reminded of King Charles I. His hair was dressed in long curls, which looked a bit like candles from where Jack was standing. His eyes were of a deep forget-me-not blue. He raised his hand to call for another drink... and Jack noticed he had a curved iron hook in place of one hand. The man got his drink, and Jack surveyed them all. They were a motley crew, to be sure; they appeared, by all accounts, to be scoundrels and rogues; most of them looked like they would kill their mothers for a sovereign. They were perfect.  
Jack picked up a grimy spoon from the table and delicately tapped one of the filth-encrusted goblets. The four pirates looked up at him. He cleared his throat. Thank you for coming, rogues, ruffians, and general disregarders of the laws of God and man, he began. As some of you may know, I have summoned you here because I've got a proposition for you all to hear. There was a pause as the stubbly man asked the bartender for another brandy. Jack felt he was going to like him. As I was saying before I was understandably interrupted, continued Jack, My proposition is this: together, we are five of the most fearsome, the most deadly, the most lethal bandits the fair seas have ever had the misfortune to encounter. Who's with me? The stubbly man stood up, with some difficulty, and cleared his throat. Cap'n Sparrah, he said, in an accent that reminded Jack of his aforementioned dead nemesis. Yers is an intriguin' idear. Me pickins have been slim the last few years. Me name's John Silver, and I be with ye. Thank you, said Jack politely. Anyone else, please? The turbaned man rose. Oliver Tresillian at your humble service. he began, in regally accented English that surprised everyone. said Jack. THE Oliver Tresillian? The plague of the Ivory Coast? The Sea Hawk? Tresillian looked rather offended at being interrupted, but he was obviously quite pleased his reputation preceded him. The very same. he said. Never heard of you. Go on. said Jack. As I was saying, said Tresillian. I believe it would be quite intriguing to join you. I'm in. Jack nodded, satisfied. The man with his hat over his eyes rose next. He threw his head back, revealing that he was in fact a woman... a surprisingly attractive woman, with long dark hair and liquid brown eyes. This did not surprise Jack, who had seen another woman do the same thing only months ago. It was becoming something of a cliché, really. And who are you? he said, determined not to let her believe she had done anything special. She stared around, waiting for a response. She got none. Evidently the other pirates were used to transgender disguises as well. She looked hurt, but continued. Me name's Anne Bonny. This elicited several gasps. Jack squinted. Same Anne Bonny that sailed with Jack Rackham and fought the Royal Navy while he and all his men hid in the brig? he asked cautiously. She nodded. I'm taking you on. Won't take no for an answer. Jack said quickly. She looked him in the eye. Jack Sparrow? she said. He nodded proudly. She slapped him around the face. Jack sighed. He was getting sick of that, too. The well-dressed man was the last to rise. He laughed. It was a short, unpleasant, harsh sound. He looked from Bonny to Silver to Tresillian, and then at Jack. Quite the menagerie you have here, he said. Truth be told, I'm wondering why I should sail with strangers and split my plunder five ways when I've got a very profitable venture going at present. Jack spoke up. Well, you see, unlike you, I have basic mathematical skills, which tell me that the plunder will be five times as great if there are five of us. Oh, and you didn't mention your name in your arrogant little rant, now did you? The man grinned, revealing white, almost fanglike teeth. James Hook, he said, politely enough. I suppose I'll come along. Jack clapped his hands. Now that we're all assembled, he said. We can get to our first order of business. What's that? asked Anne Bonny. Jack's hand went up automatically to protect his face. We're heading to Vera Cruz, he said, his voice muffled. There's a Spaniard sailing those parts I'm anxious to meet.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: You see before ye the second part of my fanfic opus The League of Extraordinary Pirates. The premise of the story (stolen from Alan Moore) is this: Jack Sparrow leads a crew of rogues from literature and history. Every character who shows up or is mentioned will either be from a pirate movie, book, poem, or history. In this chapter I'll be introducing the villain, who is the title character of Charles Godfrey Leland's excellent poem El Capitan-General. Enjoy.  
  
Jack beckoned to his four newfound shipmates. They scurried onto the dock, their way lit only by the full moon.   
  
They stood on the dock for a while. There was no sound, save for that of the gently lapping tide. Then there was a whistle. Looming out of the darkness like some colossal beast of the deep, there emerged a vessel that would have been rather unremarkable, but for the fact that its sails were jet-black.   
  
Is that...? said Tresillian, his voice trailing off. Hook snorted. It's a myth. he sneered. Is it now? said Jack. He was liking the frilly little nancy boy less every waking moment. The gangplank was lowered, and Jack ushered the pirates aboard. He nodded to Gibbs. You're a bit late. We had trouble with a territorial dispute. replied the mate. Jack rolled his eyes. Bloody Captain Sharkey giving you trouble again? he asked. Gibbs shook his head. Nay, not this time. Twas that Blood bloke. I'm not familiar with him. Jack said. I am. said Tresillian. He can be a thorn in one's side, but he's devilishly charming at the best of times. Gibbs looked apprehensive as Bonny stepped aboard. You know what I've told ye about women aboard, he said. You're absolutely right. said Jack. Let's throw Hook over the side. No, I meant... Jack interrupted, is one Anne Bonny. Gibbs' eyes widened. I lied. It can be good luck. he said quickly. Anamaria swiftly but noticeably scowled as Bonny walked past her.   
  
Jack stood at the head of a long table in his cabin. The rest of the pirates he had recruited were seated. On the table was a map of the coast of Vera Cruz. Overlapping it was a picture of a handsome, smug-looking man with dark hair and a mustache and goatee. He was dressed in the style of Spanish noblemen. Jack looked up, after studying the map for a long time. Pay attention, because I'm only going to say this name once. he said. This is Señor Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador. He's a captain-general from around the parts shown by this lovely little map. I've heard off a Yank named Stephen Folger that he's extremely crafty and an excellent fighter, but he's got a rather unfortunate fondness for Madeira.  
  
So what, precisely, is wrong with this Spaniard? asked Tresillian. What's wrong with him? said Jack incredulously. He's bloody vicious! Dozens of me friends have lost everything off him. So you're lookin' out fer yer pals? said Silver. Oh, I would never pretend to be anywhere near that altruistic. said Jack. I happen to know he's going after me next. So that's it? said Hook angrily. We're helping you pursue a vendetta? It's not a vendetta, said Jack, in an offended tone. I just wanna kill him. And why should we help you? asked Bonny. Jack smiled cynically. You don't think he's actually spent any of his plunder? he said. He's taken booty from every continent. We get him, you get a cut, you go buy yourself something pretty. Savvy? Bonny seemed impressed. No further questions. she said.   
  
Well, then, said Jack. If no one else wishes to interrupt me in the middle of me grandiose schemes, we'll be heading to Cartagena for food and supplies. We should be there by nightfall. What do you mean, said Tresillian. explained Jack. I'm not a machine. Get enough fer two. piped up Silver. corrected Bonny. Jack liked them both as much as he disliked Hook. Tresillian seemed a decent cove, even though corsairs operated legally, which, as far as Jack was concerned, defeated the whole purpose. He was generally happy with this new crew. But was the old one? He couldn't get Anamaria's look of malice out of his head...perhaps the rum would do it for him.  
  
Two hundred leagues away, Don Alonzo gave the small, cruel smile he was so famous for. After fifteen years of searching, the bearings were finally his. His vast network had finally gotten them for him, with the help of his most loyal lieutenant. Don Alonzo had money and power, to be sure... but soon he would have what had so long eluded him... immortality.


End file.
